Chaos Eyes
by MyraValhallah
Summary: Sequel to 'Sweet Remembered Dreams' Morag Flinn is blind and her only friend is a rat- how can she possibly be expected to save the Kingdom she was born in? Rated for safety- please R&R  J/S
1. Prologue

_**For those of you who may be wondering yes this is the same fic that I had published last year but my inspiration for it has returned- I hope you enjoy it. Please R and R

* * *

**__**Prologue**_

"S'eth honey" Queen Sarah smiled up at her son over her book. "What can I do for you today?"

"I want to know if you could possibly tell me when father is coming home" Prince Sareth replied running a hand through his short feathery hair.

"Right now" said a voice from the window sill.

Jareth was perched there; he must have only just arrived back because he was still dressed for the high courts. After fourteen years of marriage Sarah knew that her husband loathed the formality of his court garb- the cravat itched amongst other things, not to mention the vile bruise colour of the velvet coat and breeches. Clicking his fingers his outfit changed- the buckled shoes and knee length socks morphed into his usual leather boots. His breeches gave way for his normal criminally tight leather trousers. The coat and cravat vanished leaving only his favourite casual dress-the baggy open white poet's shirt and black leather waist coat. The purple leather gloves he wore darkened to the more common place black.

"How were the courts, father?"

"Dull my son" Jareth assured the thirteen year old- it both amused and irked the king that his son was so like his grandfather- stuffy and intent on keeping the rules. "Far too stuffy for my personal taste"

Jareth turned his attention to his wife. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet; and kissed her soundly.

"Get a room" the king and queen heard their son mutter. Jareth decided to oblige his son, he dropped a crystal and he and Sarah disappeared to their chambers.

* * *

_Thirteen months later_

Sareth glared out of the window. Damn her; damn the little brat taking his future away from him. If it weren't for those stupid eyes of hers he'd still be the heir. She would have to be the one from the one with chaos eyes when his were boring old green. If it weren't for that damn rite…

S'eth had been ecstatic to learn of his mother's pregnancy- he'd grown up with frequent visits from his uncle Toby but having a sibling was different. His baby sister had grown within their mother giving her none of the complications that he allegedly had. He'd gone into his mother's suite when the goblin had come to announce the Princess' birth and had seen tiny Morrigan's face- his first thought had been adoration; he was Fae it was in his nature to love children, the feeling had turned on its head as soon as she'd first looked at him. She'd just been placed in his arms; warm and surprisingly heavy for something so minute he'd breathed her name and she'd opened her eyes as if she knew he was addressed her.

"She has my eyes" Their father had crowed. "Precious, do you know what this means?"

"That my little girl is in for a bucket load of stick from Aboveground kids when we visit my family?"

"They are Chaos eyes" Sareth had handed Morrigan back to their mother. "They make her next in line"

"Is this true Jareth?" Mother had frowned

"I am afraid so" father nodded. "You know that there are rules that not even we may break- and this is one of them"

Now Morrigan was six months old Father had taken the little brat to be presented at the courts. She had silky soft dark brown hair like their mother but it stuck up all over the damn place naturally like father's did.

"I hate her" he muttered darkly. "I wish there was a way to get rid of the little brat- that way I'd still be the heir"

The usurped prince didn't notice the coil of smoke until it was far too late.


	2. The Rat and the Runaway

_**The Rat and the Runaway**_

Morag bit out a curse as a car sped past her- its horn blaring. She arrived safely on the other side of the road- her heart was pounding and her useless eyes stung. She scuttled into her current abode- the passage way behind a popular fast food chain.

"Squeak" she could feel Rat's eyes on her.

"Yes Rat- I'm back" she held out her hand to him, using her fifth sense to find where he was, Rat scurried up to his usual perch- her left shoulder and placed his little paw on her face and squeaked again.

"I knew this would come up" Morag laughed and produced one of the sandwiches they'd stolen, the previous day, from a petrol station and tore open the smooth air tight wrapping. Rat squeaked his thanks and she listened to him nibbling at the bread. "Bon appétit" she mumbled parroting the cook at the Home she'd been in not long ago and bit into her own ration. "Ugh- mayonnaise"

Morag was not a picky eater- she'd spent her twelve years in Homes and on the street (finding the latter preferable) she obviously couldn't read; apart from a little Braille that she'd picked up at one of the many schools she'd attended in her short life; it didn't usually bother her but she was allergic to mayo- something in it made her skin itch and sometimes, for some reason, dulled her fifth sense. It was vital that she avoid mayo- her fifth sense was what allowed her to communicate with Rat.

Before Rat had found her she'd been too scared to leave her small bedroom without one of the carers and her stick.

_Flashback_

She knew she was dreaming- she could see where she was going. She was walking through a dark tunnel.

'Morigannn…' a voice whispered. 'Come to me…'

she didn't want to follow the voice but she seemed to be under some kind spell- her feet were moving of their own accord.

There was a light ahead and it was from the light that the voice was coming.

Morag sat bolt upright- her useless eyes wide as she attempted to penetrate the thick fog and look at her surroundings for the first time. She was about eight- not knowing when her birthday was the first Home had simply gone off her physical development and called her six months old- placing her birth some time in midsummer.

"Who's there?" she demanded, panicking slightly.

A high pitched yet decidedly male voice replied. "I am not going to hurt you"

"Who are you?" she asked again. A small furry thing had touched her palm.

"A rat" was the reply. "Who are you?"

"I don't know" she heard herself answering. "But they call me Morag"

"At least you have a name" the Rat sighed

"You don't?"

"I did" he squeaked. "I believe- but I lost it"

"You lost your name?" Morag felt sorry for him so she laid her hand about where his little feet should be and invited him to scuttle up her arm.

"Like you lost your sight" the rat affirmed his small paws touching the skin under her left eye. "Your eyes are like mine you know"

"You're blind too?"

The rat laughed. "No. I can see very well- our eyes are the same colours"

Morag had had to admit that she didn't know what a colour was- she'd been blind for as long as she could remember.

"Colours are complicated" the Rat told her. "Just believe me; you have one blue eye and one brown, just like me"

Morag didn't understand the big deal

"Most things have eyes that are just one colour" the Rat told her. "I think that we must be special- meant for something big perhaps"

"If you say so" Morag yawned. "Do you have a home Rat?"

"No"

"Then you can live with me" she decided. "It would be nice to have someone I can talk to who doesn't think I'm stupid because I can't see"

Three months after that first meeting Morag and Rat ran away from the Home. The two of them had struck up a close and fast friendship, Rat described things to her- Morag kept him fed with small portions of her own food. Over those three months they both worked on developing her fifth sense.

_End Flashback_

Morag sat on the upturned bin scratching the back of her hand and listening to Rat wash himself.

"Rat?"

"Yes?"

"What do you reckon my family were like?"

Rat was silent for a few moments. "Well, I am just a rat but I think your father would be a handsome, charming, fellow; a king maybe and your mother; well obviously a beauty. If I were to guess I would say that you look like her but have a personality similar to your father's"

Morag gawped in Rat's direction

"Though what do I know" he continued, knowing full well that she was staring at him. "I am nothing but a rat"

* * *

Three days later Morag and Rat moved on. They had learned over their four years as fugitives that if they stayed put for more than a fortnight they would get caught by people from the Social Services; that had happened once- about a year ago, they'd been in Blackpool; sleeping in an abandoned beach tent that Morag had dragged under the pier for extra shelter. Morag had been woken by her name from right by the mouth of her tent

_Flashback_

"Are you Morag Flinn?"

Morag's face rose to face the direction of the speaker. There were thee adults standing over her at least one woman- the one who addressed her.

"Depends whose asking" she managed to keep her voice from shaking. Where was Rat when she needed him?

"Squeak" she felt her little furry friend run up her hand and come to rest on his normal perch on her left shoulder. "Who are they?"

"I dunno" she murmured, passing him a piece of the bread they'd pilfered from a local bakery that morning.

Rat launched into a torrent of squeaks that Morag interpreted as a rant about how the adults weren't wanted and there was something about a bog and blinking.

"Hey Rat, calm down- you'll live longer" she chuckled stroking the thick oddly long spiky-up fur between his ears.

"Ugh" the woman exclaimed- she must have seen Rat; they were used to this reaction from adults. "Morag dear, why are you letting that filthy vermin crawl all over you for?"

If there were two things that she hated it was strange adults calling her 'dear' and people who insulted Rat.

"Rat's not Vermin" she growled; Rat was agreeing with her. "He's my friend"

"Rats are disease ridden sewer dwellers" a man who was standing behind the woman and off to the left. "Put him down there's a good girl"

"Why do you care?" Morag demanded. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

"Edward Parry" the man who insulted Rat announced proudly, obviously unaware that she was blind judging by the way Rat was laughing. "Social services"

"Yes he is posing" Rat confirmed when she murmured her question.

"Whoa" Edward Parry exclaimed. "Does this kid have a sense of humour?"

"Sense of humour yes" Morag interrupted the woman who was just uttering her first syllable that Morag knew from years in the care system would be some waffle about how life in care was tough on children. "Sense of sight no- if you're doing something funny then you're wasting your time"

Her fifth sense told her that Edward Parry's ego did not react well to the knock her disability had somehow caused.

Somehow Morag and Rat ended up in a van a paper cup of something that she supposed was supposed to be tea but failed was pushed into her hands. Rat was concealed in the pocket of her huge worn out jacket. His slight weight was comforting to her but she knew she daren't acknowledge her little friend's presence because the social-services people had convinced themselves that they'd chased him off

From the van they were taken to a large house full of people her own age and younger- who she could sense staring at her.

'Yeah' she thought. 'Feel free to stare- or better yet take a bloody picture it'll last longer'

It was a miracle that they didn't find Rat when they took her clothes to be 'washed'. The clever little animal scurried his way right back to her and the blind eleven year old clad in a borrowed nightie and slippers, with Rat stowed safely in her top pocket ran once again into the night.


End file.
